


2p!England x Reader~ Sweet Weddings

by xXxnightdovexXx



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-03-30 15:20:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3941668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXxnightdovexXx/pseuds/xXxnightdovexXx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was near the time that you will become the wife to the one you love most....only that wasn't the case. Without the support of your family and the 'big day' looming ever closer you feel like your waiting for death itself. But as an upside you have a very talented blue eyed British man as your wedding organizer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One: What do you want?

Part 1: What do you want?

"Oh honey look! This place is perfect!" A woman spins in the center of a decorated room, her blonde hair spinning around her in excitement. "Sweetheart isn't it beautiful in here?" 

She turns to a group of younger women, targeting a certain (h/c) girl who was taking in the scenery with a blank expression.

Huge glass windows let the light of the warm day flood into the room, highlighting the polished wood flooring and brightening up the scene. The wooden rafters gave the room an antique feel but the way it was kept made it still seem new. A large handmade fireplace sat at the end of the large room, intricate roses and rivers danced along the edges and doors of the pit. Doors led to a balcony that overlooked a gently flowing river, the suns rays bouncing off the gentle waves. Climbing roses intertwined in the metal bars, the dark petals peeking out its lush leaves. The room was gorgeous, yet the girl didn't seem interested.

"Yes it is." her dull tone was masked by the groups excitement. The girls spread apart, looking at this and that with bright eyes. The dull girls mother pipes up again.

"Your wedding will be beautiful in this room." she grabs the (h/c) girls cheeks and squishes them. "I heard this man is the best of the best in event planning, and to meet in such a wonderful place.." 

"It is a marvelous spot isn't it? With all the information you gave me in the email. Well, I couldn't resist bringing you to this little gem."

All eyes turn to a man who stepped into the room nearly undetected, his bright blue eyes glancing appreciatively around the room before meeting the eyes of the youngest girls (e/c) orbs. A light bulb seemed to go off in his head before turning to the mother. "Ah, my apologies, i've seemed to have interrupted you."

The bride's mother instantly bolts to the englishman, as well as the small group of friends that followed, but the girl stays behind. They didn't notice her cautious eyes flickering over them as they gushed about the upcoming event. Your stomach flipped.

This man was very attractive, his charismatic and polite tone making him very good for his job. As made obvious by the way the girls gushed around him about various 'cute' things and ideas, and the way he seemed just as absorbed in it as they were. The strawberry blonde was wearing a nice almost hot pink vest, a paler pink dress-shirt underneath, nice tan slacks; but what really make it so odd was the bold bright blue bow tie fastened around his neck. As much as you wanted to make fun of this man for his garish appearance you couldn't bring yourself to think badly of his attire.

Maybe it was his confidence in himself. Or Maybe it was the way that bow made his blue eyes pop in the most mesmerizing way. Those same eyes met the (h/c) girls scrutinizing gaze, a strange emotion flickering across his eyes for a second before disappearing behind a bright smile.

"Why aren't you just lovely, poppet?" such a warm tone for a man..." I apologize for not introducing myself before chatting with your loving support." The blue eyed man gently grasps the girl's hand, bowing and kissing her knuckles lightly before politely parting. 

"My name is Oliver Kirkland. It is my job to make your wedding day something only imagined in your dreams." 

As much as your body wanted to melt at the thought, all you could feel was sick. He seemed to catch your conflict quickly.

"Ah, are you a bit nervous?" He catches your eyes flicker to the eldest in the room, who was trying to hide her own distaste at her daughter's hesitance. She gives him a slight nod. "Its quite normal, but do not fret poppet, that's why I am here!"

An hour passes and he has a pretty good idea of what the group of women are picturing. Yes a wedding out of a movie scene, or a child's dream something he's completely capable of. He agree's that their ideas are beautiful and wonderful of their own right but...

His eyes flicker to the bride, who continues to stare down at her glass of water completely distant from the whole thing. Its as if she was off in her own other world. Or maybe she was the only one still on the ground.

"Would it be alright if I spoke to you alone Ms....?"

The bride slowly realized she was being spoken to, an embarrassed blush forming on her cheeks at her slow reflexes and responds quietly. "(y/n), you can just call me (y/n). 

"Ms. (Y/n)" he repeats kindly. He smiles at the others in the room, who stand and leave as asked. A calm silence fills the room and it was the (h/c) haired girl that gently sighs, as if it truly exhausted her to be in the same room as these women. Her eyes seem to calm to a dull color and her tense posture laxes slightly. The blue eyed man smiles a bit wider.

"I see this has stressed you out a bit. I don't think I have ever had a client so turned off by the thought of her own wedding before." The laughter in his tone was obvious, his friendliness was nice but you couldn't help but feel wary of this mans personality. This made your cautious eyes flicker over his form again. There was something more to this man than he let on, not that you would question him though.

"I guess you could say that, Mr. Kirkland"

"Please! Call me Oliver, love." His quick correction made you furrow your brows, but you let it go feeling like you were being ridiculous.

"Oliver." You repeat in the same way he did earlier, smiling a bit. His ever present smile stretches wider. You could have sworn you saw something more flicker in his eyes again.

"Now, I want you to tell me what you want. Because none of what I just heard was what you wanted." You instantly meet his eyes, he was smarter that he looks. He laughs, "Come on now, poppet. Ive been doing this for a long time."

You let a bitter laugh escape your lips, making his interest pique a bit. Running a hand through your hair you sigh. You wanted to tell him you didn't want to be married in the first place. That your soon to be husband was a raging asshole, sexist, and money crazy. But you didn't think that it would help any of this anyways because it wasn't your decision to make. 

"Its all what my family wants, that's what I will have." Oliver could feel his lips tugging into a frown, catching the double meaning quickly.

"I see, well..." in a moment of weakness he reaches out and grabs the girls clenched hands, "If that's the case, do what you want before you wont be able to." The gentleness to his tone threw you off, letting his hands try to comfort you.

You glance around the room once more, really taking it in and thinking about it for the first time. What was it you wanted?

"I do like the room...just with different flowers like not the traditional roses, also...I would like some sort of lights in the rafters and rose bushes." He slowly watched as the girl opened up, her pretty (e/c) eyes twinkling with growing excitement. The next ten minutes continued like this. The blonde man just listening to the warming bride with a growing smile.

For once Oliver was excited for this wedding date.


	2. Of cupcakes and men

Part 2: Of cupcakes and men

You couldn't say you particularly 'liked' the man in front of you.

"I'll be right back poppet. Allen, don't lay a hand on my client alright? Thank you~<3!"

(E/c) orbs stare blankly at dark brown ones, you could have sworn there was a crimson hue in them...

"Why hello there dollface." The dark haired male smirks, flashing a row of perfect white teeth. Save for one missing canine. His dark skin melded well with his dark bombers jacket and jeans. A white patch caught your eyes, a dark red pentagram boldly stood above his breast pocket. It unsettled you.

"Ya know, instead of getting married you could just run off with me. I'd show ya a hell of a good time." your lips twitched at his playful offer.

"No thank you. As much as I wish I could run away I wouldn't with you."

A fake pout made an appearance on his features before vanishing from his lips, a slow grin replacing it. A cocky air seemed to emanate from him. "Well isn't that a damn shame?" Even with the dangerous glint in his eyes you still glared daggers into him at his mocking tone.

Yep, not a fan.

You frown openly and cross your arms, ignoring him as he turns a chair backwards and plops down. He watches you with curiosity dancing in his eyes, your own glancing around the room you were in. Oliver Kirkland's office.

He asked to meet you for a quick check on the ceremony layout, something you personally didn't care too much about, but he insisted that you control the setting after hearing your mothers opinion. You didn't care either way, traditional or not. They were just seats, but you didn't want to be rude to the blonde man either so you came. You certainty weren't expecting to meet anyone else today. 

You could feel his eyes raking over your form, as if trying to pick apart your thoughts before looking away. Hands rubbed nervously on your arms as you scanned the room.

Olivers office was adorable, the normally dull walls were painted a delicate pink creme shade, the sun from the windows hitting the walls in a warm light. All the furniture were soft, comforting blues and pinks, various rugs bold and vibrant. His desk was a clean, pure white, really becoming the centerpiece in the room even with the colorfull chaos around it. 

Oddly enough, this set up fit the bubbly strawberry blond man.

Your eyes catch on a cute little tower of cupcakes. The colorful morsels sitting innocently on the silver platter on the corner of his desk. Each one was unique and different in colors. They had beautiful shape and design, whomever baked these has some seriously skilled artistic talent. You eyed a little white card that stated 'Your welcome to try one.'

You take one gingerly in your hands and spin it, taking in the delicate white chocolate designs on the baby blue frosting.

The male behind you snorts, startling you after his long silence.

"I wouldn't eat that if I were you, dollface.", his eyes gleamed with devilish intent, his lips smirking at you as if he held a secret.

You turn to him, locking your eyes with his in a glare, though you did feel a wave of caution creep into your mind at his words. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

His laughter broke that thought instantly. "Calm down sugartits, I'm just screwing with you. This time." Your glare hardens, jaw clenching tightly in irritation.

"Ha ha, your so funny." sarcasm dripped from your voice as his laughter continued.

"Your too trusting. So I have a right to tease you."

"I really dont think thats how that works." you sneer at his playful form. He shrugs his shoulders and looks at the door, expecting Oliver to be back by now.

"So, your Olivers friend?" you ask idly, not really expecting a true answer. They were so different from what you could already tell.

"You could say he is a lot like....a mommy figure to me." he continues at your skeptical stare, "He has taken care of me since I was young." 

"I cant imagine such a sweet guy like him could raise an asshole like you if he tried."

His lips twitch, "That doesnt mean he isnt a fucking di-"

"Allen Jones! Do not use that language in public! Just stop saying such nasty things especially in front of miss (y/n)!!!"

Olivers shrill dissapointed tone made both occupants look over, Al beaming an unimpressed look at the blond while you were just releived you didnt have to spend any more time alone with this twit.

"I apologize for raising my voice poppet! Please sit down." The blue eyed male was by your side instantly and settling you down in one of his fluffy chairs. You couldnt help but warm at his caring additude, even if it was his job or not.

"It's alright Mr. Kirkland, it really isn't a problem."

"Please, call me Oliver love!"

You couldn't help smiling at him, "Oliver, You wanted to figure out the layout? I feel you know what looks best, so you have my faith in deciding that for me. Besides, its only the ceremony site."

"No no my dear! Its not just the ceremony site! Its a scene, a perfect picture where you are the centerpiece. In that moment all eyes will be on you and the room will be a way to enhance the beauty of you and your moment. You will look even more stunning than you are even now."

His passion filled his words, he truely loved what he does here that much was true. You smile warmly at his desire to make you happy. He seemed to be the only one who was thinking of you...

 

'You will look even more stunning than you are even now.'

 

Heat instantly floods to your cheeks, eyes widening for a second and you repeated those words in your head. You bring a hand to your blushing face as if your hands could smother the heat in them. He thought you were stunning? Oliver thinks im pretty? 

Al notices your dazed expression and snorts, standing and rolling his eyes at you as if he knew your thoughts. But he did, that much was easy to tell.

"Ill be sick if I sit here too much longer, ill be back later." With those bored words he exits the room lazily. His words fell on deaf ears.

Oliver on the other hand didnt seem to catch on as quickly.

"Poppet, are you alright? You seem a bit flushed." his smooth voice was laced with sweet concern. His troubled blue eyes catching yours as he lifts a hand and gently brings it against your forhead. "Are you feeling ill?"

"Of Course, just peachy!" You mentally slap yourself at your obvious awkwardness, just peachy? "S-see! I'm fine." You sit as far back in your chair as possible, hoping to not seem flustered in front of the strawberry blond man. An odd smile was stretched across your face as you tried to ignore the tingling sensation his fingers left on your heated skin. A higher-pitched version of your laughter tried to distract the man from the obvious.

Your laughter falters at his slightly confused expression before it was replaced by his usual friendly face. "My apologies poppet, I shouldn't have touched you. Silly me!"

His tone sounded truely apologetic and light, as if to brush away the static in the room. You could have sworn for a split second a look of dissapointment flash in his eyes. Were you just imagining it? 

You looked closer and didnt see a thing except his usual jovial emotions. You reassure him that it was nothing and that he has no reason to apologize, earning you a gentle smile. An hour or so passed like that. He slowly coaxed ideas out of you, themes for your weddingday. 

It seemed like he would finish your thoughts for you as if he could sense what exactly you were begining to envision. The arrangements, the seating, the alter, he knew it all. A couple of quick sketches and binders later, you both had your perfect room for your ceremony. 

Even with your distaste for the wedding in the first place you could feel bubbles of happines forming in your chest. Is this how brides are supposed to feel?

Your (e/c) orbs drift to Oliver who was putting away the plans in a file, a content smile on his lips. For a split second you wondered how Oliver would look at the end if that alter instead of your fiance. Those warm eyes and uplifting smiles.... but they arent meant for you. Because you belong to someone else.

"Poppet? Miss (Y/n)? Are you there?" you didnt notice the blue eyed male trying to get your attention. A thick eyebrow raised in confusion at your intent gaze on him.

"S-sorry! I just got dazed for a moment..." a light blush filled your cheeks and you avert your heavy gaze.

A light chuckle filled the silence, "Thats quite alright, I saw you eyeball the cupcakes earlier and I was wondering if you could taste test them for me."

"N-no no! I couldn't..." you instantly refuse.

"Please! I instist. You should try them all, they are all tests for your dream wedding cake anyways."

You nod slowly and pick up the first cake, it had a heavy swirl of light pink sweetcreme with tiny white roses lacing around the delicate frosting. It looked like a white cake from what you could see. It looked too beautiful to eat.

"Oliver, these cakes are beautiful. What bakery did you get them from?" you ask as you bite into the soft morsel. The cupcake was so soft! And the frosting just melts in your mouth~ You couldn't help a little moan of happines leave your lips at the flavors. Its amazing!

You didn't notice the light blush dust blonds cheeks at the sound. He coughs before fixing himself and smiling proudly. "Im assuming you like? I actually make these little treats myself." he chuckles lightly at your shocked look.

"The one your trying now is a vanilla bean cake with a rose frosting. Rose oil is a very delicate flavor, but if you get the balance right it can be just fantasic dont you think?"

You nod in agreement, you would have never thought rose would be a flavor for food...

"If you like that one then this should be good as well..." the delicate pink pastry was taken from your hands and another replaced it.

You could easily tell this cake was heavier, the cake was a dark chocolate color, what amazed you was the small swirls of (f/c) that peeked out from inside the dense cake. A bold (f/c) frosting topping the little pastry, the same swirls wrapped around each curve. You glance at his eyes, which held a gaze of excitement and nerves. "How did you do this? Its amazing..."

"It takes a lot of practice to be one of the best." at least he knows...

 

You take a bite and just about melt. If you didn't think you liked sweets before then your whole life has been a lie up till this moment. The cake, which looked do dense, was like a cloud even with the dark chocolate flavor. You were surprised by the hint of your favorite flavor in the mix, you realize it was the swirls in the cake itself. The frosting as actually the rich part, your favorite frosting hinting at your (F/Fl) again. The strawberry blonde brightens at your blissful state, eyes twinkling happily. You didn't even need to try any more, this was the one.

"Can you make this into a wedding cake?"

"For you, of course! Any changes at all?" 

He blinks at your instant shout. "No! nothing at all! Everything is perfect!"

You returned to eating your new favorite sweet, letting him recover and happily continue the meeting.   
Yes, at this moment everything is perfect. At least it is to you.

Your eyes drift to the window, looking at the clear skies and bright sun. You were waiting now for the dark clouds of reality in your sunny daydream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two, the big hunt for the best dress will come next. And who is most capable of fashion???


	3. Say 'yes' to the dress...?

"Are you excited dear?" an older woman speaks as she drags a girl though the busy city streets. The (e/c) girl glances back at the group of women trailing them, all older than herself, only to have her cheeks patted and pushed forward into her mother.

"Yes mother, dresses. How exciting." the girl responds halfheartedly, completely smothered by the oppressive excitement around her.

"(Y/n), as soon as you see Mr. Kirkland you need to thank him. Understand."

The younger girl glances at her mother with a questioning gaze. Oliver isn't in the business of making dresses, is he? She was struggling to keep up with her quick pace and almost trips over her own feet, caught by her mothers strong grip on her arm.

"He somehow managed to contact Flavio." The woman's excitement shifted with her daughters confused gaze, hand tightening roughly around the girls upper arm in irritation and fear of embarrassment. The girl in turn winces lightly.

"Really (y/n) you have never heard of Flavio?"

"Martha dear, your daughter doesn't know one of the most famous designers worldwide? I would have thought you at least told her."

The (h/c) girl snaps her head back at her mothers friends, picking up the mocking tone under their words. As if this should have been common knowledge, though the girl has never cared for fashion or tabloids in the first place.

"Flavio is only the most amazing fashion designer that has ever toughed this earth. It takes big bucks and months of wait to even get a chance of being tailored by him!"

(E/c) eyes widen in shock, blinking rapidly.

"If that's true he must be pretty amazing, how did Mr. Kirland-"

"None of us know and I certainly wont question him (y/n)." her mother cuts in for fear of more embarrassment. Making the younger girl snap her lips shut and opt for looking around instead of listening to the women around her any longer.

It's a busy day, people rushing about the sidewalk and cars filling the streets, shops and cafe's were bustling with life. Your little group seemed miniscule compared to the volume of the citylife. The bright sun warmed the air and reflected off the windows of crème buildings. The nicest building of them all was the corner shop being slowly approached by the women, bolder colors made the shop stand out. Beautiful gowns stood proudly on mannequins in the windows. Each piece stunned and taunted passerbyers with is edgy style and smooth grace...

The elders excitement increased tenfold as they gazed in awe at the gorgeous pieces of artwork, quickly bolting into the open doors. The girl yelps as she is pushed into the shop with them.

An uncomfortable look graces the (e/c) girls features as she looked around the very expensive room, left by the door as the women made their way deeper inside. The room was decorated in the lightest of golds and crèmes, an Italian theme permeating the space with delicate carvings and furniture. The suns rays shown through the windows and created a gentle, natural light, softening the features of a couple of mannequins across the room. The open windows let in a light breeze and cooled the room, refreshing.

From behind the curtain popped out a blond head before stepping out completely, carrying a delicate train of fabric in his arms.

"Welcome to my shop bellas." this man had a very heavy Italian accent, voice dripping with raw amour. The (e/c) eyed girl studies the smiling Italian , blushing lightly at the audacity of his confidence. It radiated from his being-head to toe confidence. Designer clothing seemed only an accessory to his devilish looks. Sharp eyes looked over the young girls form , raising an eyebrow at her 'blandly' casual attire.

He tsks as he steps forward, completely ignoring the other women in the room.

The italian steps around the confused girl, a cat to a mouse. She weakens under his intense gaze, bringing her arms closer to herself and following his eyes with her own darkening ones.

"I can see his fascination..." he murmurs more to himself, earning a furrow of brows from the girl. The bleach blond grabs the girls wrist and lifts her arm up, eyes already calculating . I'm positive you have quite a figure under those-a dull clothes, bella."

Retracting her arm, the girl's check heat up at the compliment, quickly looking away from his growing smirk.

"I'm glad you can see that," her mother coos, "but someone else did as well. That's why she is getting married I suppose." her voice almost takes a regretful tone as she stares at the blond.

"Yes, yes, and as a request from a friend of mine I will transform you into a diamond."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"If you couldn't already tell my name is Flavio."

Said man leads the small group deeper into the shop, revealing a large studio room. As the youngest girl walks in she is surprised to see a certain strawberry blond man sitting patiently on one of the couches, deep in thought. Upon arrival the blue eyed male smiles warmly at her, eyes traveling across her figure and quietly sips from a teacup. A lovely aroma wafted throughout the room and into the girls senses, adding to the refreshing air. Unseen by the other women the (e/c) eyed girl returns the smile and waves lightly at him.

"(Y/n), bella, I'm going to tell you now that from this day onward I will be your personal designer." the italian watches the girl, eyes dancing with amusement and lips twitching into a sensual smirk.

The occupants in the room gasp, the girl herself couldn't ever make a sound for a moment, eyes widening and hand covering her mouth in shock.

"Mr. Vargas, you can't be saying..." her mother pipes, shock laced into her voice.

"I am." he replies cooly, eyes flashing to the other male in the room for a second before shruging his shoulders and waving his hand at the woman lightly, "call it a wedding gift from me."

The young womans (e/c) orbs immediately snap to Oliver's, catching him staring at the scene. As if caught he snaps his head to the side, averting his eyes and hums softly into his teacup. Acting as if he had nothing to do with the offer.

"I'm sorry Mr. Vargas-" she starts.

"Call me Flavio, bella."

"Flavio," she corrects, "I'm sorry but I can't accenpt this. You must have many other customers who-"

His hand on her shoulder immediately silences her.

"(Y/n), dont-a worry. You will not be taking much time away at all. I only design for people who personally interest me, you see. Besides, as I have said before it is a favor from a friend."

The girl immediately sends a dark look at the englishman, who again ignores it with a widening smile.

"I see..." she resonds softly, eyes never leaving the blue eyed male. "Well, thank you Flavio, and thank you Oliver-haaan?"

An odd sound escapes the girls lips when the italian grabs her chin imbetween his fingers, tilting her head up to match her widening eyes with his intense stare. Her little group was quietly gossiping with eachother, drinking in the scene like a soap on t.v. They didn't notice the mothers eyes narrow, studying the scene in a different way. She pulls out her phone and steps out of the room, fingers already dialing. 

"My my, you have very stunning eyes." he mumbles, deep in thought as he holds and turns the girls face in his hands. The girl herself shuffles her feet awkwardly, trying to avoid eye contact with his intense orbs. "Hiding them behind you hair I see. Sadly, lots of women with beautiful faces hide them with their hair and gaudy make-up. Theres-a difference between fabulous and rediculous."

Flavio swiftly brushes his hand along her jawline and lifts away locks of (h/c) hair back and away from the girls face, revealing more of her smooth skin and strikingly lovely (e/c) orbs.

The touchy italian snaps his fingers, completely entranced with his work, signaling Oliver to walts over. The strawberry blond blinks, stopping before him with confused eyes and and unsure posture. The girl averts her eyes when they meet his own.

"Yes...?"

"Hold her hair back, I would rather not drag her by her hair around the back." he snaps and bolts out of the room, the other occupants listening to the rustling of drawers in the back room.

Oblivious to the group of women, the girls mother returns with a sly grin tugging on her lips.

The bubbly male was quiet, his smile frozen on his face and demeanor shifting as he becomes more and more enraptured by (e/c) eyes. As much as the girl wanted to ignore the closeness, she couldn't help but shiver at his touch, an electric shock that grabs her attention. A blush begins to invade her cheeks when his thumb unconsiously moves in light circles on her cheekbone, sending slow jolts against her skin. She looks up in surprise, locking eyes with his own flickering ones and gasps lightly.

As if snapped out of a trance, the englishman in front of her blinks rapidly and recovers his casual air almost as if it was never lost in the first place.

"My appologies poppet." he quickly coughs out, voice quickly shifting to a much chipper tone. Fake.

"I don't mind." she says softly, a confident undertone hiding under her shifting eyes and bodylanguage. Eveys narrow when she catches something odd shifting in his blue orbs. For a split second, like weeks before in his office, she thinks she could see a strange hue twist in his eyes. "...Thank you for this Oliver."

"Its quite alright poppet! I only wish to bring you perfection." he says, warmth in his voice. Though the girl couldn't quite relax with his touch still tingling on her skin and the strange emotions hidden in his eyes.

The pair didn't realize they were moving closer and closer to eachother until Flavio walks back into the room, making them jump apart.

"Grazie..." he speaks, lips twitching from the flustered look that crosses the englishman's face. The italians hands replace Oliver's and quickly pins her (h/c) hair up into a high bun, pulling strands of hair out to frame the sides of her face. At first the girl stares confused at his arm, at how quickly the tingling sensations Oliver left on her cheeks dissapears and replaced it with a chill. But with her face in perfect view for all eyes she begins to feel uncomfortable all over again, mesmerizing (e/c) orbs trying to find solace in the open. 

"The bella has very smooth skin and expressive eyes....doesn't she Mr Gentleman?" the italian speaks, eyes glancing at oliver with a very wide smirk and knowing eyes.

"Yes, yes she does." the male responds, not catching his playful tone or just ignoring it completely. Though if anyone asked, he couldn't deny the dazed look in his eyes. 

The young woman in question begins to glare at the floorboards at all the attention.

"This will be easy! Not often I get a true natural beauty."

He then quickly begins his work, double checking his measurements and dissapearing into the back.

"Alright ladies, let him work his magic." the englishman chimes, back to normal when he turns to the mother and older women on the couches.

As much as the girl wanted to imagine the dresses she will be trying on, she couldn't even image the dress she could wear. As she stares at the beautiful peices on the manniquines she feels her confidence leave her. It was easy to see other women in these dresses, and see how they would flourish. But if she imagined herself in any of these pretty peices of satin and lace she feels as if she would pale in comparison. Her eyes darken the longer she thinks, waves of embarressment crashes against her mind. What if she couldn't find anything good, or if Flavio decides that she's a waste of his time...

The girl jumps when loud squealing slams into his ears. She turns to see Flavio rolling out a couple on manniquines with various dresses on them. Creme, white, ivory...wavy, puffy, lacy. Each different from sweetheart corsetes to their trains. The girl almost pales immediately.

"Come on bella, time to try them on! And you cant say they wont fit." the italian coaxes, a smile on his lips. "Oh if only my brother saw me now."

"He better not be anywhere near here Flavio." the englishman teases, though there was an edgy tone under his honey coated voice. 

The young girl looks over the dresses, trying on multiple different styles. Though as she thought, none of them seemed to make her shine. The classic sleek, the princess with its heavy waves, the mermaid, the short choppy and long train....she felt she paled in every one. The italian however was studdying her every move and reaction, taking in mental notes on what she seemed to like and dislike, what felt comfortable and uncomfortable by her movements. He was searching for the dress that will make her eyes shine and skin glow in unnatural beauty. Flavio glances at Oliver as well, who was completely absorbed in her.

"Such a fool..." he mumbles, quiet enough to where nobody catches it. 

He darts his amber eyes to the young girl, watching her eyes become more and more downcast with emotions. She clenches her hand, digging her nails into her palms to keep the swelling tears away. 

Tears?

"Bella, dont look so down. I think I know what your longing for." the italian quickly speaks, an uncomfortable look on his face. Yes he has seen women cry, but they were out of sheer happiness of his doing. He also doesn't want to deal with Oliver if she becomes upset...

He quickly bolts into the back room, the girl watching the bleach blond with confused eyes. Each of the girls were arguing about which dress looked the best on the bride, thanks to the fact that the mother took pictures of every dress her daughter tried on.

Flavio comes back with a pure white dress, which looked untouched. 

"This is one that I made just recently...I was-a saving it for the perfect girl." the girl blinks when he spins her and ushers her back into the changing room.

Once inside she slips out of the previous dress, the (h/c) haired girl lays it across the back of a chair and slips into the newest dress. Immediately she releases a breath of air, surprised by the softness of the material and the way it fit her figure perfectly. As she looked in the long mirror she stares for a while, shocked by her own appearance. It almost seemed as if she wasn't the same girl.

The sweetheart topline showed off the perfect amount of skin and hugs her chest like an old friend. The corset which almost seemed like it was laced created a slimming look and curved in all the right places, a (e/c) ribbon tied just under her bust and tied into a beautiful rose shape-offcentered to her left. Beautiful, embroidered lace loops and trails from her hips to her mid-theigh, another white sits softly at her left mid theigh and drapes down and around. Underlayers of the dress fell downward almost like drapery in waves to her feet, an embroidered train swooped around her as she stood in the mirror in awe. This dress, her eyes, her figure, her confidence illuminated in this dress.

"(Y/n), poppet are you alright?" she hears Oliver speak, a worried edge in his voice. She takes a deep breath and steps out of the room and into the room where everyone was waiting with anticipation. 

There was a round of gasps, followed by silence as the (h/c) haired girl walks into the room, a gentle smile on her lips. Flavio instantly claps his hands together, eyes shining as he admires his work.

"Bella! This looks just favoloso on you." he sighs, with the silence turning to squeals it was obvious they agreed with him. Yet nobody in the room agreed with him more than Oliver.

He was at a loss for words, for thoughts. His blue eyes froze on her as soon as she walked into the room, his heart jumped in his chest when she laid eyes on her smile, they way her eyes shined like diamonds against the sunlight, the smoothness of her skin-as smooth as the satin wrapped gracefully around her figure. He knew. He knew he was a fool. A complete fool for coming to see her today even though he knew this moment would bind him. From this second on she would never leave his mind, he would remember this feeling.

What a fool.

"You really think so?" she solftly asks, absorbing as much confidence as she could. Though it would never be enough.

Oliver was about to respond, a smile warming his tone when he is cut off.

"No."

It was cold, clipped. The girls confidence immediately shatters, along with the brightness in her eyes. A smile was frozen on her lips because she knew that voice.

All other occupants in the room turn to the door, some filled with shock, one with irritation.

And after a glance at the broken girl one was filled with white hot rage.

Covered by a wide, forced smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ah! Oh Christan, your finally here." The girls mother speaks, joy in her tone as she walks up to the young man. "You don't like the dress?"

The girl starts to shiver, a tears threatening to prick at her eyes because she knows what her mother will say.

"No. Not at all." 

"I can see why. Flavio should have more dresses..." she then turns to her daughter, whos back was turned to all of them. "Honey, come greet your fiance. He left early to see you, isn't that just sweet?"

The (h/c) girl slowly turns, eyes meeting the sharp silver eyes of her fiance. The emotion dissapears from her form, leaving a barely heard monotone, "I see. Isn't it bad luck to see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding?"

The other men in the room immediately asess the situation, one more deeply than the other.

The Fiance scoffs at her, flicking his black hair back before circling around the weakening girl, "Don't tell me you actually beleive that supersticious crap. Anyways who is the designer here?"

The italian responds, voice much more cold but still professional, "Im-a right here, Flavio. A pleasure." He reaches his hand out to shake.

The raven-haired male takes his hand and shakes once, "Please tell me you have some other dresses."

"What is it you dont like about it?" he responds smoothly.

Silver eyes stare menacingly at the smal girl, taking in every inch of her. "Her hair should stay down for one, there was a reason she was keeping it like that," she flinches as he quickly yanks out the band holding her hair up, making it tumble down her neck and over her face, her scalp tingling painfully.

The englishman clenches his teeth as he watched this man, watched the (h/c) haired girl wince at his touch.

"The low bustline makes her chest pop out, and not in a flattering way sugar tits. Dont want you embarrassing yourself or me for that matter." he lifts her chin up to look at him only to see vacant eyes, his lips twitch into a grin. "Basically, your hips arent close to slim enough for that corset and that hipline makes you look two sizes bigger. So no, I dont like it. Don't embarrass me with this sight again."

He then releases the girl after spitting out these hateful words, pushing her forward and towards the dressing room. The lifeless girl stumbles, catching herself on the wall before dissapearing from the room completely. The blue eyed male watches and his eyes swirl with rage when he spots tears falling from behind her curtain of hair. 

The most digusting thing in the room was the mother, who did nothing but smile and tilt her head at the scene. As if it was normal.


	4. What's that Bitter Love?

Oliver stands among the crowd of frantic and hysteric guests, all rushing around to the parking lot. The heavy, deafening sounds of a siren floods the air, almost drowning out the cries and shouts from the families of the Mr. and Mrs. The room around the strawberry blond spun with activity, yet he was still. His body refusing to move, only allowing him the sight of his companions looking onto the scene. 

A gentle smile was stuck on his lips yet didn't feel a thing but cold. The Englishman stares forward, eyes almost blinded by the red flashing lights. He didn't notice Francois glance at him and shake his head, even with his lazy demeanor the Frenchman still showed a hint of disappointment in his violet eyes. 

"Oliver...smile for me? It looks best on you."

A wide smile stretches across the strawberry blonde's lips as he watches the ambulance rush away.

.

.

.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~24 hours before~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As soon as (y/n) opened the door, she was surprised to see a scruffy looking Canadian on her doorstep. 

"Hello? What do you need?" the girl responds automatically, confused at the unfamiliar face. She was exhausted from spending time with her in-laws only hours before. Her (e/c) eyes were heavy with mental exhaustion, her hair was a bit messy in a loose pony-surprisingly a lot like the male in front of her. She was a bit confused with the tall mans sunglasses, his lips tight as he studied the girl. 

After an awkward minute of dead silence the girl shuffles on her feet, debating on whether to close the door on him. He huffs, sounding a bit put off. 

"Your (y/n), right?" the (h/c) girl steps back at his rough tone, nodding in response, "Come with me."

The roughness of his tone causes the girl to flinch, quickly trying to slam the door shut. As if reading her thoughts the Canadian man slams his hand on the door, cutting the girl off easily. She quickly stutters.

"DON'T slam the door on me." He barks, sliding the dark shades slightly on his nose, "Oliver told me to come pick you up." Tired and irritated lavender orbs pin down the confused girl. A slight scowl appears on his lips as she hesitates.

"What? I didn't plan anything with him." 

"It's a surprise." he looks away when the girl targets him with a blank stare. "I don't know why, he's even more snappy than usual and I took this chance to get out." 

"Okay." the girl finally decides, running a hand through her messy hair and stepping inside the house. "Let me change and-"

"No need." he quickly snaps, though the girl was starting to tell that this must be normal behavior. The girl furrows her brows at him, looking at herself and her lazy state. Even so she slips on a pair of shoes an follows the boy after locking up her house, studying him as he reaches a pickup truck. 

It was slightly banged up from use, its cherry red paint wearing down and splattered randomly with dirt and paint. He seems to notice the girls scrutiny as he pops open the tailgate, scuffling sounds reaching your ears. She pops open the passenger side door and get inside, a warm homey feeling at seeing a blanket over the top of the seat and random empty coffee cups littering the floor space. It carried an earthy smell of dirt and pine trees. The girls eyes widen as she almost hits her head on a shotgun hanging above her seat. He quickly enters the truck and starts the engine, the machine roaring to life, before plopping a strange ball on the distracted (h/c) haired girl's lap. 

"It's messy in here, but at least it doesn't smell like Al's car." he says, monotone as she yelps at the thing moving in her lap. "His reeks of...nevermind." 

Quickly lifting the ball in her hands he tears off into the street, the reddish puff unfolding while it dangled in the air. 

"My asshole of a father told me to bring that thing, says i'm too much of a punk to make any girl feel comfortable." he snorts, eyes on the road, "he just couldn't handle the little shit any longer." 

The female almost squeals in delight as she pulls the nuzzling creature closer to her body, the small fox curling up against her stomach.

"How did you get one in the first place?" the girl asks as she pets the small puffball, calming considerably.

"I work as a Nature Park Ranger." he responds, making the girl glance at him curiously. "This little shit needs rehabilitation, its mother was poached for her fur." A hint of anger was present in his voice, which the girl quickly picked up on. She decided not to continue on the subject for fear of really unleashing some anger.

"I'm guessing you love animals...." the (h/c) haired girl drops off, not remembering asking him for his name.

"Matt." he finishes for her, "I guess you could say that."

After a long drive of comfortable silence the blond Canadian stops the vehicle, a large cabin glowing in the night. He quickly snatches up the 'little shit', elicting some strange yipping noises from the small animal and bundles it in some blankets. As the girl steps out of the car Matt just closes the tailgate, leading her to the entrance. 

"What are we doing here?" the girl asks confused, recognizing the place as a cabin next to the wedding site Oliver talked with her about. Many different models of nice cars lingered in the gravel in front of the large home, its dark oak wood blending into the dark skies and surrounding forest brush. A warm glow emanated from the large windows as they both reached the doorstep.

"Oliver wants to make your experience 'amazing'," he mimics the strawberry blonds tone, still straight-faced, "Plus that wackjob Flavio is here to take care of you an get you all dolled up or some bull."

Just as he finishes his sentence he opens the door, revealing a group of men. 

"Oh finally Mathew, took you long enough?" A familiar voice rings. The girl turns to Matt who seems to have disappeared from her side, trudging up the stairs quickly. 

Blinking the girl glances around the room for the owner of the familiar voice, smiling when a certain blond Italian envelops her in a hug. 

"Oh dear, you look just awful!" The male tuts, "And I mean that in the nicest way, (y/n)." The girl laughs lightly at the insult, knowing that her baggy clothes and messy state wasn't exactly the most 'fabulous'.

"Yes, I didn't quite have the time to get ready..."

"That's fine! It will make your pampering look so much more dramatic~." He responds, already dragging her lightly to the group of men watching both of them as if part of a tv scene. "This will be your wedding staff for tomorrow." 

The mention of the word 'wedding' puts a sour look on the (h/c) haired girls features.

You noticed the largest man first, wearing a dark cloak and watching the girl with bored chocolate eyes. His dark hair and form a stark contrast to the Italian next to you. He was the first to notice because he nearly towered over her, an intimidating aura radiating from the man that would normally make the girl shiver. Next to him is a Chinese man, his own dark eyes seeming almost black even in the warm light of the cabin. His dark hair hidden under a red hat and smaller frame seeming even more tiny next to the large Russian man. His demeanor seemed haughty as he glanced over the girl, a spark of interest in his gaze before he gives her a lopsided smile. 

"This is Viktor and Xaio, they will be like security during your wedding." the girl quickly asks why she would need security only to have the Italian man wave his hand and brush it off as Oliver's idea.

"Hey there dollface, still sticking around huh?" (e/c) orbs instantly snap to Al, knowing exactly what expression the American male was keeping.

The crimson eyed, confident boy was sitting on one of the chairs, legs hanging off one of the arms and full head of reddish brown hair hanging off the other end. The girl wasn't all that surprised to see the boys trademark toothy smirk and devilish eyes trained on her. 

"You look like shit there doll." the male teases, gaining great joy in seeing the normally calm girl change slightly in demeanor. A glare settles in the girl's (e/c) eyes, even if it was a gentle one.

"You look like a prettyboy punk, but we don't usually say shit about it." the girl blinks when the words were taken out of her mouth, focusing on the last male lounging on the other chair, cigarette in hand. The boy stares at the other man, making it obvious that his statement was more or less inaccurate. 

"Bull-fucking-shit, you call me a punk-ass all the time Francois." Al snaps, his tounge ring clinking against his teeth in irritation.

This man was scruffier than any other in the room, reminding the girl of the young Canadian. The blond Frenchman had a much lazier air, his tired violet eyes ignoring the younger boy with skill as he takes a deep drag of his cigarette. His dark, crumpled clothes matched his scruffy appearance. He looked good in his own, lazy kind of way. 

The girl glances away when she meets his eyes, "This is the one to catch that idiots eye?" his eyes flicker over her figure, making the girl rub her arms uncomfortably. He looked like he was going to say something, but instead turns his head away and proceeds to ignore everyone in the room in favor of his cigarette. 

"I see you met Al! Good. He will be setting up the area in the morning so you don't have to see much of him." the Italian fills you in, ignoring the positively deadly glare of said man. You noticed his fingers twitch in irritation. "This is Francois, Oliver somehow got him to agree to help cook." Flavio seemed confused himself on the details, leaving the Frenchman be.

"Where is Oliver?" the girl asks, itching to thank the strawberry blond properly. 

"You cant see him right now~ He's making your cake bella." much to the girls surprise he starts dragging her up the stairwell, nearly lifting the poor girl off the ground in the process. "Besides, I will not let you see him until you are looking cute enough to eat."

"O-okay" she quickly stutters, not expecting the sharp tug.

"Are you finally excited for your wedding?"

The girls eyes seem to dim, a small frown tugging on her lips. Her voice coming out low with hesitance.

"...yes. Thank you Flavio."

As the two disappear up the stairs Francois stands, setting his wine glass down gently and stubbing out his cigarette before making his way to the kitchen. Once inside the man sighs, rubbing his face in a mixture of exhaustion and irritated confusion. The kitchen was a complete mess, many different colors of batter and sugar were scattered everywhere it could go. Multiple beautifully decorated cakes of many shapes and sizes were littered across the countertops, all in variations of white and (f/c). Sugar roses were shattered and scattered in petals across the countertops, powder still lingering in the air. In the dead center of it all stood Oliver, his beautiful sapphire orbs glinting dangerously as he stared at mess.

"Flavio was right, you have become even more of a fool haven't you Oliver?" Francois asks, question rhetorical as he wipes a finger across the countertop. His voice was gravely, unaffected by the air around the Englishman. Yet his eyes carried a small amount of pity, though it wasn't for the other blond. Not when he catches a glimpse of a vial of saxitoxin in the smaller mans hands.

"I guess you could say so~! I can't even decide on which cake to pick for (y/n), how silly." the man's voice carried that usual joy, yet his body remained still, eyes still fixed on a batch of cupcakes. "Did you know the groom asked me to make a cupcake for himself and the bride? I must make them just perfect, the best I have ever made-"

The Frenchman completely ignores his words, turning sharply and heading out the door. "I don't need to remind you to be careful with this one."

"Why, whatever do you mean?" The blue eyed male asks, turning his head to the disappearing blonde. There he stood in silence before lifting a cake that was more moist than the others, looking it over with darkened eyes. 

"A fool you say?" he speaks softly to himself, sounding far off, "That may be true..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"God dammit Matt!" A voice shouts, its owner throwing down the chair in his hands. "Watch where your fucking going you dumbass."

"Why don't you fucking watch where your going? You ran your stupid ass into me you shitstain." Mathew yells back, shrugging his own chair to one arm as Al grabs the front of his dress-shirt.

"Boys! Language!" A chipper voice scolds, making the two boys look over yet still in their aggressive holds. "Stop fighting and finish the ceremony site! People are starting to arrive."

Oliver walks in-between the two taller boys, who have parted and shared the same irritated looks on their faces. He wore a crisp clean white suit, the all too familiar electric blue bow snug around his collar. His blue eyes gentle as he finishes decorating the alter with the brides favorite flower. Oliver then steps back, admiring the way the petals shimmered in the gently glowing lights. The girl decided on an outdoor wedding ceremony, which wasn't all that uncommon. The only thing uncommon about it was the addition of the gently glowing string of lights above, or that the ceremony was to be at night under the stars. He seemed to glow in the dimmed lights.

"Well? how does it look?"

"....I don't know." the younger males answer, seeming unimpressed by the scene themselves. Matt quickly adding 'It's fine' at the quick un-amused glance Oliver shot them.

Everything was perfect. All the sites were set up and glowing, people were filing in and getting seated, they were almost ready. He met up with the mother of the bride only minutes ago, confirming that everything has run smoothly and they are ready to start the ceremony. A small, professional smile was stuck on his lips as he watched the people file into the site, seeming in wonder of the almost magical feel of the atmosphere. Of course it was magical, he promised (y/n) it would be.

A cold voice makes Oliver turn his gaze away from the twinkling lights, landing on the groom. He smiles as the man walks up to him, holding out his hand politely. The grooms dark suit had a nice glint to it from the lights above, his silver eyes even colder in the warm scene he created.

"You did a very nice job, I'm quite impressed with it all." The dark haired male says, voice as cold as his eyes. 

"Why thank you. Congratulations." Oliver responds politely, the only trace of strain in his the tightening of his fist behind his back as he smiles.

Hearing someone calling his name Christian turns away, leaving Oliver to decompress and allow his eyes to flicker in its strange pinking hue. He turns his head when his ears catch a gasp from the back row. 

A hushed calm moves over the crowd of seated family members, all turning in their seats as music begins to play. A soft, sweet piano's song flows, soothing the charged air. The flickering lights stop, leaving the place dark before fading to a dim glow. Oliver blinks in surprise when his chest tightens almost painfully, stomach fluttering in strange emotions.

Flavio quickly sneaks around the back, a smirk on his lips telling the strawberry blond that he was very satisfied with his work. The Italian stands next to Oliver, looking around the space with an impressed glint in his amber eyes.

The crowd watches in silence as girl after girl in (f/c) dresses walk down the isle, dropping petals as they walked. The Englishman begins to tap his foot, unaware of his growing impatience as a long pause makes the space heavy with question.

Flavio moves, as if going to push the bride inside, but pauses when she walks out onto the petal covered grass.

There was a second pause, time seeming to stand still for seconds. All eyes were on the young woman, some in awe and some in tears. (y/n) was positively breathtaking.

At the end of the isle she stood taking a long deep breath, her eyes closed. Even though the groom denied the dress weeks before she wore it, and she looked flawless. The beautiful white fabric curled lovingly around her body, letting her smooth skin glow in the growing light. The way the dress flowed from her form made her look almost angelic, innocence radiating from her. Her hair, which trailed down her shoulders only hours before was pulled up in a elegant half bun, the ends twirling down her neck and danced around her like a halo. (H/c) strands curled and flowed freely from the side, framing her face. The girls make-up was done very lightly, natural beauty shining through. Small teardrop gems framed her high-cheekbones, adding to the positively tragic way she paused.

Oliver pauses, breath catching as he becomes just as enraptured as the families around her. He could have sworn his heart skipped a beat when she opens her eyes. (E/c) orbs like rare gems shining in the soft light, the (e/c) ribbon below her bust making her eyes pop even more.

Unnoticed by the crowd the girls grip tightens on the bouquet of flowers in her hands, uncomfortable with all the attention she was receiving. Her eyes drift to Oliver's, seeking encouragement from the man she has only known for a month. She quickly looks away though, color dusting her cheeks when her eyes meet his electric blue ones, trained on her in a mixture of awe and the gentleness she has come to love.

"I said i'll make the bella look like a diamond, didn't I?" Flavio gently murmurs in Oliver's ear, nearly unheard by the male as he watches the girl walk down the isle. For a reason unknown to him Oliver felt sicker with each step she took.

With that the strawberry blond was bound by silence as the gentle music stops and the preacher begins to speak.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours pass, the night moving in a frightening pace; everything was happening so fast for the (h/c) woman, now wife to the man she despises the most. She couldn't keep up, but strangely time seemed to move too slow as well. She could clearly feel the air around her freeze every time she would catch her husbands eyes. She knew her heart had been slowly preparing for these moments, but she didn't expect the deep freeze to encase her whole body. 

Being the wife of Christian felt wrong. So very wrong that her heart was trying to claw its way out of her chest, debating on flickering out instead of living life another second bound to this man.

All night she longed to see Oliver, at the least to thank him for the night. In it's own way everything did feel like a dream just as he said it would. What she wanted to see most of all is his warm, loving smile before she was no longer able to.

Her chest tightens and heart throbs when she finally catches a glimpse of his blond hair across the space. She was about to go talk to him when her mother pulls her back, hugging her and pulling her towards the wedding cake.

"Oh honey, Its time to cut the cake! Look how pretty it is, it's just marvelous isn't it?" The older woman rambles, pulling the bride off to the side next to Christian. 

The cake did look fantastic. It had a delicate balance of white and (f/c), Sugar roses the color of the girls eyes climbed delicately up and around the cake. Petals so thin they looked like glass scattered on the tiers, some even suspended in the air with nearly invisible spun sugar strands. It carried so much skill the girl didn't want to slice into it.

She grabs the silver cake knife and looks at Christian, whom looked just as unamused as he usually does hidden behind a smirk. A smile for the family. As much as she herself wants to show her complete distaste she smiles as well, a pretty face like her mother wants. 

He grabs her hand, what was normally a loving gesture was empty, sending chills down her spine. The cake was soft, making it very easy to slice through and to the girls surprise the inside was just as delicately made as the outside. Inside were thin ribbons of (f/c) crème, swirling in the pillowy chocolate cake. Just as pretty as the cupcakes Oliver had her try.

Listening to the coos of her family, the bride grudgingly lifts a little piece of the cake in her fingers and raises it to the grooms lips. A strong temptation to smash the cake in his face. But before she could move Christian leans and takes it into his mouth, curling his tongue against her fingers and giving her a dark look.

The (h/c) haired girl quickly pulls her hand away, a shiver running down her spine when she feels a hand on her hip. She wanted to slap his hand away, shout at him to stop touching her, but then again she never could before so why would she grow the strength now when it was too late?

"I'm going to need you two to go back to your table."

Recognizing the voice she turns. Happy to see Mathew again even if she did spend a very short time with him. She admits he looks a little out of place in his slacks an white button up, missing the glasses that normally covered his tired, violet eyes.

"You look nice Matt." she speaks, hiding the laughter threatening to sneak out.

All he does is give her a blank look, rolling his eyes when he turns away to cut the cake into pieces. The girl then walks back to her table, putting on a small smile as she faces her new family. A rush of joy invades her when she spots a cupcake on a dish in front of her, the same as the one Oliver made for her. She could never forget that delicate swirl of (f/fl) crème, or that heavenly light dark chocolate cake. A pretty clear sugar rose was settled on the top, looking as delicate as glass with its thin petals.

Oliver was delighted to see that the (h/c) haired girl was in love with the sweet in her hands. It made all that fuss worth it really. A light blush dusts his cheeks when the bride meets his gaze, her (e/c) orbs shimmering in bliss of the thought of the pastry he created. A true smile plays on his lips as he takes her in, every inch of her was a treat to his eyes. Seeing that sweet smile on her lips made the cakes he made pale in comparison.

His eyes flicker to the groom, who was turning the cake in his hand. The strawberry blonds blue eyes flicker with pink filaments, a wide grin forming when he brings it to his lips...

"Hold it Mr!" An elder shouts playfully, "She fed you, you need to share with your new wife." 

"Both of you!" another coos, the voice of the bride's mother.

The room fills with innocent coos and teases, making both pause. Oliver stiffens, eyes widening as he watches. His heart constricts so tight he feels it would implode in his chest. 

The girl looks away from her treat, blushing lightly at all the attention. She turns to the groom and offers him a bite. After his own pause he does the same, the soft morsel only inches from her mouth.

Oliver shouts, stepping forward to try to stop them. But the room was too loud, neither could hear him over the volume of the guests. His blue eyes were almost dominated by the strange hue of pink, filled with panic instead of insanity. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, because he knew he wasn't going to get there fast enough. His feet were far to heavy to reach her in time.

His heart shatters in his chest when she takes a bite of the cupcake in the grooms hands. The hue in his eyes slowly fades and time around him seems to return to its normal pace. The space around him was deafening, his body becoming so heavy he wanted to drop. He didn't even care the music from the band started. A classic flowing through the air for the first dance.

 

"Wise men say only fools rush in"

 

"Oliver!" the blue eyed male breaks from his frozen form, looking at the bride who was smiling at him so pure-heartedly that it hurt. He didn't have the time to pick up the pieces. His chest aches when she stands and starts coming toward him.

"but I can't help falling in love with you"

He didn't anticipate it. He was blinded to the fact he was taking a gamble. He should have known, he was in the wedding career, he knew that this was a possibility. Love is blind, he was blind to everything but the target of his affections...even he things he needed to see. He was frozen in place as she comes near him, taking his breath away again. He couldn't take it.

 

"Shall I stay?  
would it be a sin"

Before he could make the decision to step away his body moves forward.

"Oliver! Thank you for tonight....its been amazing." she speaks, gratitude drenching her words. Oliver smiles at her, strained as his lungs burn. He doesn't want her to thank him, not now. All he wants to do is apologize.

"If I can't help falling in love with you"

His breath catches when her eyes soften, showing him the emotion he wanted to see the least. In this light her skin glowed like an angel, an innocent who fell in love herself. He was too numb with emotions to comprehend the regret washing through him. Truly she was in love with him as well....

"Like a river flows surely to the sea  
Darling so it goes  
some things are meant to be"

Something was wrong, she could see that much. Oliver seemed to be stuck in a whirlwind of emotions, all flickering in his eyes. He was shaking lightly, the pinkish hue returning slowly to his eyes as if he was overwhelmed. 

"Oliver? Are you okay?" she asks, concern flooding through her voice. She hesitantly reaches up and cups his face in her hands, it seems to break him out of his trance. 

"Y-yes poppet, i'm just fine." he answers abit shakily, "you just look so stunning that I couldn't focus." A lump forms in his throat, stinging at the lie. Even so she smiles, completely blind to his struggle. Surely she is just as in love as him.

"Dance with me?" she asks, a blush invading her cheeks.

The strawberry blond stares at her for a moment before gently grabbing her hand, His skin burning at the loss of her fingertips.

 

"take my hand, take my whole life too" 

"Of course love. I wouldn't dream of refusing you." he speaks softly. Especially not now.

As he lead her to the center of the dance floor her stomach started to turn. Almost to the point of painful, she blames it on nerves. Her skin burns even through her clothes at the touch of his hand on her hip, her other hand's fingers entwining with his as he leads her body against his.

"for I can't help falling in love with you"

This was all she needed, just one moment with the one she has come to love before letting it all go. She reaches up, placing a sweet kiss on the man's cheek. An innocent kiss, but one that makes him break. The blue eyed male eyes prick, tears threatening to fall. Her heart was soaring, but she wanted him to smile for her.

"Oliver...smile for me? It looks best on you." she murmurs, her body felt oddly light. Weightless. The words barely left her lips, but he heard her. His body started to become cold, tears spilling from his eyes as he watches her eyes flutter, starting to way as she begins to loose consciousness. He smiles, as painful as it felt he smiled for her, getting a truly happy smile in return. As she slips unconscious her holds her tight, laying her down gently. 

"(Y/n)?!" a woman behind him speaks, turning to a shout when Oliver turns and shouts for someone to call an ambulance. The room becomes chaotic, flurries of movement and sound. The musicians pause in their rendition, springing to action.

With every second that life leaves her body Oliver becomes more cold. He couldn't even feel bitter when the groom kneels beside him to look over his wife's lifeless body. Oliver stands, stepping back and giving space to the ones crowding around his love. His lips twitch, turning to a wide smile. Smiling for her.

**Author's Note:**

> To begin, I DO NOT see 2p England as a crazy mass murderer that cant control himself. I see him as a seemingly normal happy man, with a bit of psychopathic urges when pushed to the limit. And I mean the limit. So I refuse to portray him as a crazy person here cause its real life, what I would see as the man next door. Or more like the wedding planners I work with everyday.
> 
> Also I work at a golf course that holds events all the time. I am a wedding staff there, so I get to see how it really is like being in both of these positions. The scene is actually depicted from my actual workplace too. xD


End file.
